


Bad Hair Day

by Ikira



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Kiss, Hair Brushing, Hunk helps, I just couldn't resist for the summary, I swear there are no puns in the fic itself, Keith doesn't know how to do emotions and is generally confused, Lance can be gentle sometimes, M/M, Thank god someone did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7403728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ikira/pseuds/Ikira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith's day has hit a bit of a snag. His emotions have become all tangled up after Lance offers a bit of uncharacteristically charitable assistance, and now he doesn't know what to do with himself. Thankfully he might be able to straighten things out and smooth things over with Lance, with a little bit of help from Hunk. Or maybe a lot of help, but now we're just splitting hairs. </p>
<p>(Unlike the summary, the fic does not have any hair puns, I promise)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Hair Day

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing for this fandom, and first time writing anything in a while. I apologize if anyone seems off here, I'm still getting used to the characters :D

“Dude, your hair is an even bigger mess than usual.”

 

Keith flinched as Lance suddenly appeared in the open doorway of his bathroom, leaning against the frame in what was presumably supposed to be a casual manner. He had a smirk on his face that Keith knew generally meant trouble, and that there’d probably be some kind of blow up between them in a few minutes.

 

“What do you want?” Keith asked grudgingly, ignoring Lance’s comment for now. He really wasn’t in the mood for a fight today. On top of his broken arm that he’d gotten as a souvenir from their recent run-in with Galra forces, he was starting to get a headache. Of all the times for Coran to take the healing pods in the infirmary down for maintenance!

 

“Came to get you for dinner,” Lance said, swaggering into the room like he owned the place. It was a painfully obvious attempt to get Keith’s hackles up by encroaching on his space without permission.

 

Unfortunately it was working.

 

Keith could feel the muscles in his neck start to tense up, which only made his headache worse and put unnecessary pressure on his broken arm. The pain spiked in both regions, but Keith just gritted his teeth and did his best to ignore it. He’d be damned if he let Lance know that he was getting to him that easily. Still, the sooner he could get Lance to leave, the better.

 

“I think Hunk was trying to make pasta, though I don’t know how it’s gonna turn out. What’s up with your hair?” Lance demanded again, his smirk growing wider.

 

“ _Nothing_ is up with my hair,” Keith growled, turning away from the mirror in his bathroom to shoot Lance a glare. “Now _leave_.”

 

“Come on, your hair is a mess,” Lance continued as if Keith hadn’t even spoken. “It’s all frizzy and tangled and stuff. Were you aiming for the ‘I-just-rolled-out-of-bed’ look? Because you missed. A lot. And also you have a mullet, so that look would never work for you in the first place.”

 

“ _Lance_ ,” Keith said through clenched teeth, gripping the lip of the sink so hard with his uninjured hand that his knuckles were white beneath his glove. “Get the hell out.”

 

“Nah. I wanna know what’s up with your hair. Seriously, it looks like you haven’t brushed it in _days_.”

 

“That’s because I _haven’t_ ,” Keith snapped, whirling around in a fit and shoving himself up into Lance’s space. Lance jerked back in surprise at the sudden movement, his back hitting the wall next to the door. “Because I _broke my arm_ and now I can’t _lift it_ , or _hold things_ which means I _can’t brush my hair_. Get it?”

 

There was a moment’s pause where Lance stared at Keith, who was only inches away from him. Their faces were so close together that their breaths were intermingling and their chests were pressed against each other. And then Lance’s eyebrows scrunched up into an expression of confused disgust.

 

“But then how do you brush your teeth?”

 

“UGH!” Keith groaned, pushing past Lance and into his bedroom space. He almost grabbed his red jacket on instinct before remembering that his arm was broken and stuck in a sling. It only made his foul mood worse. “Obviously I can use my other hand, idiot.”

 

“So why can’t you use your other hand for brushing your hair?” Lance asked, and to his credit it was a fair question. But Keith was already riled up, so his answer was short and bitten off.

 

“My hair’s too thick. It’s too hard to pull the brush through.” Muttering under his breath, he started struggling into his shoes so that they could just leave already. At least at dinner there would be other people for Lance to annoy. Maybe he’d get bored of Keith and leave him alone.

 

As if.

 

Sure enough, when he tried to leave the room, Lance was suddenly in his way.

 

“Lance, what the hell,” he growled. “I’m hungry, you said it was dinner, let’s go.”

 

“No, no, no,” Lance said, pushing Keith back towards the bathroom with a hand on his good shoulder. “Dude, you can’t go to dinner like that. You look like a hobo.”

 

“I do not!”

 

“Yeah, you do. Seriously, though. Why didn’t you say anything?” And to Keith’s shock, Lance didn’t sound like he was trying to be mocking. In fact he actually sounded quite sincere. If Keith didn’t know any better, he’d think Lance almost looked…concerned.

 

“Say what?” Keith asked. “It’s not that big a deal. Coran said the healing pods will be fixed up by tomorrow. It’s only one day. Messy hair isn’t going to kill me.”

 

“Yeah, but you could have just asked one of us to help you, you know,” Lance pointed out. “We’re a team, aren’t we? We’re supposed to help each other out. I’m kind of surprised Shiro didn’t offer already.”

 

“Shiro’s got enough of his own problems,” Keith muttered, turning his head away. Lance went quiet for a moment, unable to argue with that. Shiro had been a lot quieter ever since their desperate attack on Zarkon to rescue Princess Allura, and they’d all caught him having more episodes of panic attacks lately. Shiro insisted that he was fine, but they’d all made a point of trying to keep their problems away from him so that he had less to deal with. Even Keith and Lance had made a silent pact to try to keep their squabbling away from Shiro and to a minimum in his presence when it was necessary.

 

“Yeah, fine, that’s fair. But you still could have asked Pidge, or Hunk. Or me.”

 

“You?” Keith repeated, and he couldn’t keep the incredulous tone from his voice. “ _You_ would help me brush my hair.”

 

Lance bristled, but then visibly forced himself to calm down. “Yes, me. What, think I can’t do it?”

 

Keith blinked, and then realized that he had no arguments against it. “No. I guess you can…brush my hair. If you really want to.”

 

“I do,” Lance said decisively. “You can’t go around looking like that, man. It hurts to look at you. Go get your brush.”

 

Feeling like he was in a very surreal dream, Keith grabbed his hairbrush out of the bathroom and handed it to Lance before walking over to his desk chair and taking a seat in it with his back to the room. He was painfully aware of Lance coming up to stand behind him, brush in hand.

 

“Have you ever done this before?” Keith asked, nervous for reasons he couldn’t explain.

 

“Yeah,” Lance said absently, resting one hand on the back of the chair. Keith jumped a little when he suddenly felt fingers tugging through the hair at the base of his neck, testing the tangles and checking the texture. “My little sisters. My mom sometimes needed help getting them ready for dance recitals, and no one was better at a ballerina bun than me. Your hair is a lot thicker than I’m used to though.”

 

“…you better not give me a ballerina bun,” Keith eventually said, sullen.

 

“Ha! You never know, maybe you could rock it.”

 

After that they fell silent as Lance got to work. His first few strokes with the brush caught on large tangles, and Keith winced as he braced himself for Lance to start ripping chunks of his hair out. He was therefore pleasantly surprised when instead of forcing the brush through the tangles, Lance put it aside and started working them out with his fingers instead.

 

Once the worst of the knots was gone, Lance grabbed the brush again, starting with the ends and working his way up to the roots. The longer Keith sat there, a warm presence at his back and the soothing feeling of brush bristles running through his hair, the more he felt himself relax, until he was slumped down against the chair, practically purring with delight.

 

He hadn’t realized how much time had passed, or what Lance was really up to, until he felt Lance suddenly shift awkwardly behind him and clear his throat. Only then did he notice that it wasn’t the brush that was running through his hair anymore, but Lance’s fingers. And that those weird pleased moaning noises were coming from his own mouth.

 

As the realization hit him, he suddenly went stiff, the noises cutting off. Lance was equally frozen behind him, his breathing oddly erratic in the quiet room. The silence stretched on as neither of them could think of something to say to break it. Keith had no idea how long he’d been making those noises. To make matters worse, Lance’s hands were still buried in Keith’s hair. He could feel them pressing against his scalp, frozen mid-motion as they dragged across the top of his head.

 

Licking his lips, Keith shifted slightly in his chair. Behind him Lance jolted like he’d been given an electric shock, quickly moving away from the chair.

 

“U-uh, I think th-that’s good enough,” Lance stuttered out. “All done!”

 

Keith didn’t dare look back at him. His face felt like it was on fire, and there was a weird churning sensation in the pit of his stomach. “Um. Y-yeah. Thanks, Lance.” His uninjured hand griped the arm of the chair as if he was afraid he’d fall out of it if he so much as moved funny. “I…I, uh…give me a minute? I gotta just…grab something before we go to dinner?”

 

“Right!” Lance shouted, “Yes, dinner, gotta go eat, gotta get some food, sure thing, I’ll just wait for you outside, no worries.”

 

Keith looked up just as Lance made a mad dash for the door, and the glimpse he got of Lance’s face showed that he was blushing redder than a tomato. So, Keith wasn’t the only one a little…unnerved by what had just happened. Okay.

 

Still, Keith couldn’t deny that it had been…nice. Really, really nice. Lance clearly knew what he was doing when he was brushing Keith’s hair, and those _hands_. _God._

 

Keith had never really cared much about his hair, he’d barely remembered to get it trimmed when he was still in the Garrison, and when he’d been living on his own he’d just cut it himself whenever it got too annoying. That was why he had such long hair to begin with, because he really didn’t care about it. Why care about something so inconsequential? So long as he could fly well and it didn’t get in his way, it didn’t matter what his hair looked like.

 

But the way Lance had handled it… man, Keith had never know that brushing your hair could feel so good. Or maybe it was just Lance that made it feel that way.

 

That thought lead to Lance’s fingers running through his hair, which then lead to Keith thinking about what _else_ Lance might be able to do with his fingers, and then suddenly Keith had to abruptly stand up and start searching for his gloves before he dwelt too long on those particular mental images. That way led to madness and trouble, and he was _not_ going there when he was about to go to dinner with the rest of the team. Including _Lance_. He of the ‘magic fingers’ and the weird sense of humor and the surprising intelligence and who noticed things like Keith needing help when no one else had and –

 

_Dammit_.

 

When Keith finally made it out into the hallway, he was surprised to see that Lance had actually waited for him. Lance was still blushing faintly, but he looked up when Keith approached and even managed to give him a small smile. The two walked to the main dining hall in silence, for once not bickering about every little thing along the way. It was a very surreal experience, and Keith was sure the rest of the team noticed that something was off when they quietly entered.

 

“Everything okay?” Shiro leaned over and murmured to Keith once he and Lance had taken a seat. They were the last to arrive.

 

Keith didn’t really know how to answer that, so he just shrugged his good shoulder and then nodded. Thankfully, Shiro didn’t press the issue, and a moment later Hunk was handing out bowls of what kind of looked like spaghetti and meatballs. Except the noodles were blue. And Keith was pretty sure there was no meat involved. Still, he tucked in with enthusiasm, just as eager as the rest of the team to try out Hunk’s latest culinary creation. Even if it didn’t taste quite right, it still had to be better than the usual green goo.

 

+++

 

The rest of the evening passed relatively normally.

 

After dinner, Hunk vanished back into the kitchen to check on their supplies, Pidge dragged Coran off to discuss some new modifications to the castle, and Shiro and Allura ended up staying behind and striking up a conversation about wood carving of all things. Keith left them to it, eager to get some time to himself. Normally he’d head straight to the training room to work off the filling meal, but with his arm broken, he’d been strictly forbidden from any sort of fighting. As irritating as that was, Keith did understand the practicality of it.

 

Instead he found himself wandering the castle, idly looking out the windows into space whenever he came across them. He was only half-paying attention to the view though. His thoughts were mostly consumed with whatever the hell had happened earlier.

 

Since when the hell did he notice that kind of stuff about Lance?!

 

Quiznak, did he _like_ Lance?! When did _that_ happen?! Sure, Lance wasn’t exactly hard to look at. He could be funny when he wasn’t being horribly obnoxious or antagonistic. He was a really good shot with his bayard, and he was a great tactician when he was actually _using_ his brain. But it was _Lance_. LANCE. The biggest pain in Keith’s ass (after Zarkon) in all of outer space! The guy acted like he _hated_ Keith half the time, and the rest of the time they were ignoring each other!

 

He _liked_ him? What the hell was he thinking!?

 

But now that the thought was in his head he couldn’t shake it. He kind of liked Lance. As in like-like. As in, he maybe wanted to kiss Lance. Or touch him. Or… other stuff.

 

How long had this been simmering under the surface? Based on how fast it seemed to hit him all at once, it couldn’t be new, but for the life of him he couldn’t tell when things had changed. Surely he hadn’t felt this way the whole time… right?

 

Eventually he was forced to conclude that it didn’t matter. He liked Lance _now_. And so now only one question remained.

 

“What the heck am I going to do?” Keith whispered to himself, pressing his forehead against the window and staring out into the stars beyond as if they’d suddenly rearrange themselves into an answer.

 

“Keith?”

 

Keith jerked his head up, eyes wide. He hadn’t realized that he wasn’t alone anymore. He blinked as Hunk approached him, looking sort of cagey.

 

He’d be the first to admit that he and the Yellow Paladin weren’t exactly the closest. He had absolutely nothing against Hunk – he was a reliable teammate and he never really caused any trouble – but they really didn’t spend too much time together, compared to the others. Still, Keith much preferred seeing Hunk right now to certain other cocky pilot.

 

“Oh, hey Hunk,” Keith greeted belatedly. He turned away from the window to face the other paladin properly. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Um, actually,” Hunk began to say, his eyes darting from side to side and his fingers twitching. He was the picture of nerves. “I was looking for you. I kind of wanted to talk to you?”

 

Keith’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He could think of very few reasons why Hunk would want to talk to him specifically, and none of them were good. He swallowed thickly, curiosity and dread like butterflies trapped in his stomach, before trying his best to plaster a smile on his face. “What’s up?”

 

“Um, well. It’s – it’s about Lance.”

 

And just like that the dread butterfly stabbed the curiosity butterfly and lit it on fire. “Um. Okay? What about him?”

 

“Well, I don’t know if you know this, but, uh,” Hunk began nervously. “Lance and I? We’ve been friends for a really long time, I mean a _really_ long time. Like, _really_ long. Like, our families have been friends for years we practically grew up together, right? And of course we bunked together at the Garrison and Lance and I were on a team together and we’ve basically been best friends for forever and we’ve always had each other’s backs and – ”

 

“Hunk!” Keith cut into Hunk’s rant. “I – just… get to the point.” He resisted the urge to rub at his forehead. The headache from earlier was back.

 

“Just… Lance is my best friend,” Hunk said. The way he was staring at Keith made him feel like he should be getting something more out of that comment than he was. When Hunk didn’t continue, Keith became certain of it, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what he was supposed to understand.

 

“Okay. That’s… great? Not sure why you felt the need to track me down for that, but…”

 

“My _point_ is, that because he’s my best friend, I gotta look out for him. Make sure he’s okay. Because he’s not always great with the emotional stuff and while he can be really sharp when he wants to be, he doesn’t always pay attention.”

 

Keith just stared at Hunk, completely baffled. “O…kay? I guess I kind of knew all that, already? Where are you going with this?”

 

“Do you like Lance?” Hunk asked point-blank, talking over him. His expression was no-nonsense, and his posture as firm and solid as his lion.

 

“I-I, uh, what?” Keith stuttered, caught completely off guard. How the heck had Hunk caught on to him so fast?! He’d only just figured it out himself! …had he really been that obvious?

 

“Of course,” Keith tried to recover. “We’re teammates, so just because we don’t always get along, doesn’t – ”

 

“Not what I’m asking,” Hunk interrupted him. “I’m asking if you _like_ Lance. Like, are you in love with him?”

 

Keith felt his mouth opening and closing, but nothing seemed to be coming out. The air in the hallway felt very hot and dry all of the sudden. Love? As in, _love?_ Did he _love_ Lance? Did he? He’d only just figured out that he kind of _liked_ Lance, what was this love nonsense? He had to figure out if he _loved_ Lance too?

 

His thoughts turned angry, whirling on themselves like a pack of fighting dogs. How dare Hunk come skulking around, chasing him down and asking such personal questions! Putting stupid thoughts into his head like that. He didn’t _love_ Lance! He could barely stand the guy! _Love?_ Really, _love?!_

 

But every time he turned the word ‘love’ over in his mind in relation to Lance, he could feel something flutter in his chest. Was that love? Sure, he’d never really felt this strongly about another person before, but did that mean it was love? Did he love Lance? _Did_ he love Lance?

 

“I… I don’t…” Keith began to say, tripping over his own tongue in his nervousness. The words seemed to catch in his throat, blocking it up and making it impossible to speak. One question kept whirling through his head; _did_ he love Lance? He knew he felt something for the blue paladin, but was it _love_? God this seemed so fast. He’d barely come to terms with _like_ , now he was facing _love?_

 

A hand landed on his shoulder, cutting off the endless loop of uncertainty. He looked up to see Hunk giving him a gentle smile.

 

“Hey, dude, it’s okay. You don’t have to answer that one. Sorry, maybe that was a bit too soon.”

 

“I… yeah. I don’t know,” Keith managed to say, feeling slightly stunned.

 

“That’s okay. Like I said, probably too soon. But I can definitely tell you _like_ him though. Otherwise why would you be so worked up about it?”

 

He had to admit, Hunk had a point.

 

“…yeah, alright,” Keith quietly admitted, glad that at least this he could answer. “I do. Like him, that is.”

 

Hunk grinned and gave Keith’s shoulder a squeeze. “Good. That’s good. Because I’m pretty sure he likes you too.”

 

Keith couldn’t help but perk up. “Really? How can you tell?”

 

“Like I said, I’ve been Lance’s friend for years.” Hunk beamed proudly, as if this was a major accomplishment. Considering how annoying Lance could be sometimes, Keith considered, maybe it was.

 

Hunk then gave Keith a little wink. “I know how he gets around his crushes. He’ll flirt with anything that moves, but when he likes someone for real he becomes kind of a jerk. Any attention is good attention for him, if it’s coming from someone he likes.”

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Keith groaned, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands. “You’re telling me that Lance is _actually_ the little boy pulling pigtails stereotype?”

 

“Yup. ‘fraid so.”

 

“That… explains so much,” Keith said after a moment. And it did. No wonder Lance always started acting up more when Keith ignored him, if he was trying to get some attention. But was Hunk right? Did Lance really… like him too?

 

“Was it a good idea for you to tell me this?” Keith couldn’t help but ask. “Won’t he be mad?”

 

“That’s why I asked you first,” Hunk explained, shrugging his shoulders. “If you’d told me you didn’t like him, or if I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have said anything. But I think, and I’m pretty sure the rest of the team would agree with me, that if this helps you and Lance get along better, then I’m willing to have him mad at me for a bit. Besides,” Hunk started chuckling, “the longest Lance has ever managed to stay mad at me was three days, and that’s because I ate the rest of his birthday cake once without asking. I’m pretty sure this is nothing compared to that.”

 

“He was mad at you over cake?” Keith raised an eyebrow.

 

“To be fair, it was his favourite. Chocolate pecan with caramel.”

 

Keith really didn’t know what to do with that information, so he decided to ignore it. This conversation was getting way too strange for him.

 

“So… now what?” Keith asked to get the conversation back on track. “What the heck am I supposed to do with this?”

 

“No idea,” Hunk said cheerfully. And completely unhelpfully. “But you should decide on something soon. If it helps, Lance mentioned to me that he might swing by your room again tonight. To help with your hair, I mean. So you have until then to figure it out.”

 

“I… okay. I’ll… yeah.”

 

“Good luck, Keith,” Hunk said. “And just remember, he’s my _best friend_. You break his heart, I’ll break you, okay?”

 

“Um, okay?” He gave Hunk a funny look, not sure where that had come from. Hunk had never struck him as the aggressive sort. Just in case he subtly checked Hunk over. He quickly concluded that while Hunk was bigger than him, Keith was pretty sure if it came down to it, he could win in a fight.   

 

“Awesome!” Hunk grinned and gave Keith the thumbs up, as if he hadn’t just threatened Keith, and then turned and walked away. He even had the audacity to _whistle_ as he marched off, leaving Keith to stand alone in the middle of the castle hallway, a wall of windows revealing stars stretching out to eternity before him, with no idea what the hell he was supposed to do about Lance.

 

+++

 

He walked back to his room in a daze, his mind going a mile a minute. By the time he heard the knock on his door later that evening, he was just as confused and uncertain as before. Despite that, he pressed the control switch to open the door, his hand only shaking a little.

 

“Hey,” Lance greeted quietly with none of his usual bravado.

 

“Hey,” Keith replied. He stepped back to let Lance into his room without question.

 

Lance followed quietly, coming to a halt in the middle of the floor. Keith continued into the bathroom, once again retrieving his hairbrush and handing it over. Their fingers brushed for a moment, and Keith felt a jolt in his lower belly.

 

It was only because he was watching Lance so closely that he noticed Lance reacting to the touch as well. Lance twitched, his pupils suddenly dilating.

 

Huh. Maybe Hunk was on to something after all.

 

Carefully, Keith let go of the brush and walked over to his desk chair. Without speaking a word, he sat, his back to the room and Lance once more. Just as quietly, Lance approached him, coming to a stop so close to Keith’s back he could feel Lance’s body heat radiating off of him. Keith took a slow, steadying breath through his nose.

 

The brush started stroking through his hair, and he made himself relax.

 

“So,” Keith began tentatively. The brush jerked a little against his scalp as Lance jumped in surprise at Keith’s voice, but he resumed stroking quickly.

 

“Yeah?” Lance prompted. Keith couldn’t see his face, but he imagined Lance’s voice sounded a little rougher than usual.

 

“Uh… thanks again. For helping me,” Keith muttered.

 

“Oh… no problem.”

 

Oh god, Keith had no idea what he was doing.

 

He didn’t do stuff like this! Ever! He had no idea how you were supposed to act around a person you liked. How did anyone else do it?

 

He tried to think of examples, but the only reference he could think of was Lance himself. And flirty Lance was an idiot, so there was no way Keith was mimicking him. But he had to say _something_. Man, what would Shiro do?

 

“Uh, so. You’re really good at this,” Keith spoke up. Right, Shiro was all about positive reinforcement. A compliment was a good start, right?

 

“Oh? Uh, yeah? Th-thanks,” Lance murmured, sounding a little distracted. He was working his fingers through Keith’s hair after the brush now, making sure all the hair lay flat. The feeling of nails scraping against his scalp was giving Keith the shivers.

 

Figuring that was a good next step, he said as much. “Yeah. Your fingers feel _amazing_ ,” he moaned.

 

Lance choked.

 

Keith whirled in alarm, looking over his shoulder. Lance was leaning heavily against the back of the chair, coughing into his sleeve. His face was bright red and his eyes were streaming.

 

“Are you okay?” Keith asked in alarm, jumping out of his chair and reaching out for Lance. But Lance dodged out of his reach, backing away from him.

 

“Y-yeah, I’m _fine_ ,” Lance wheezed. “You – you can’t just _say_ stuff like that, man!”

 

“What? What stuff?”

 

“The stuff about my, uh, I mean, what I was – that thing you just said! About the fingers!”

 

“Why not? It’s true!” Keith said, advancing towards him. “You’re really good with your hands. It feels really, really good.” Geez, usually Lance _basked_ in praise, preening like some kind of cat. Why was it suddenly so hard to pay him a compliment?

 

“Oh my god,” Lance said faintly.

 

“I’m just trying to compliment you!”

 

“That wasn’t a compliment, idiot! That was… that was… I don’t know what that was!”

 

“What the hell is wrong with you? I’m just trying to tell you I liked what you were doing. You’re the one acting weird about it!”

 

“I’m – just – ugh, just go sit down so I can finish this!” Lance snapped.

 

“No!” Keith grunted, suddenly so very frustrated and so very tired of all of this.

 

He just wanted to talk to Lance just _once_ without it turning into an argument. But Lance was just so _frustrating_ to deal with! He was contrary and annoying and hard to predict and just a giant pain in Keith’s ass. How the hell could he have ever fallen for this idiot?

 

Confusion colored Keith’s words as he tried to understand. “Just _tell_ me. Did I insult you somehow? Is it somehow demeaning for you to have really nice hands?”

 

Lance stared at him. “Are you serious? Are you even _listening_ to yourself right now?”

 

“Yes, obviously!”

 

“Really? Because if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to come onto me!”

 

Keith opened his mouth to argue some more, but then he stopped short as he actually considered what he’d been saying. And then, taking into consideration Lance’s tendency to always have his mind in the gutter, he realized what it might have sounded like to him.

 

On second thought, maybe his compliment had sounded a _little_ suggestive.

 

He looked at Lance, who was giving him that cocky little smirk that usually drove Keith crazy. Clearly he’d thought he’d made his point and won the argument. Well, Keith couldn’t let that happen. Time to wipe that smirk off of his face.

 

“What if I am?” he asked with false innocence.

 

And just as he’d planned, Lance’s eyes immediately bugged out. “W-what?!” he squeaked.

 

Okay. Okay. This was a good development. Keith could work with this.

 

“What if I am trying to come onto you?” he repeated, stepping closer. Lance took a step back in response. They continued like that until the back of Lance’s legs suddenly hit the bed, and he stopped short. Keith stopped as well, standing so that they were toe to toe. Close enough that he could see the freckles dusting Lance’s cheeks.

 

The room seemed very quiet all of the sudden.

 

“…are you?” Lance whispered into the space between them.

 

“…maybe,” Keith whispered back. “Depends. Would you take me up on it?”

 

“I, um…” Lance swallowed thickly, and then licked his lips. Keith tracked the movement with his eyes. The air between them felt thick now, like static build up waiting to be discharged. “I… might, yeah.”

 

Keith’s breath caught in his throat. This was it. He was doing this.

 

“Okay,” he said, shaking slightly. “I’m gonna try to kiss you now, okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Lance breathed, his eyes already slipping closed and meeting Keith halfway.

 

It was a gentle kiss. It was clear that neither of them really felt sure of what they were doing, just pressing their lips against each other for a moment, but it still sent a jolt of heat and desire through Keith’s body. When they separated, they barely moved back at all, their noses brushing against each other with each breath they took. They watched each other, waiting for something to break the moment.

 

“Can I kiss you again?” Keith asked after a moment.

 

Lance didn’t even bother to answer, he just leaned forward that tiny bit so that their lips met again. This time they pressed a bit harder, dared to move a bit more. Keith’s good arm came up to rest on Lance’s shoulder, his broken arm trapped between them. Lance brought one hand up to bury his fingers in Keith’s hair, the other wrapping around Keith’s waist. When he started scratching lightly at Keith’s scalp, Keith couldn’t help the breathy moan that escaped him, his lips slipping open. Lance took advantage, the tip of his tongue swiping out to test the opening. This only made Keith moan louder.

 

Lance’s arm tightened around Keith’s waist at the sound, and then suddenly he was leaning back to sit on the bed, dragging Keith with him. Keith had no choice but to follow, otherwise they would have to break apart. It seemed second nature to straddle Lance’s lap, pulling himself as close as possible with his grip on Lance’s shoulder.

 

Their kissing was only becoming more heated as they clutched at each other. Keith felt like he was burning up as Lance’s hands both came up into his hair, sinking into the thick tresses and grabbing a handful. Lance used his grip to tilt Keith’s head into a better angle, somehow making the kiss feel even _better,_ and Keith once again couldn’t stop the breathless whimpers that escaped him every time Lance tugged. The heat seemed to be building up and up between them, and Keith was starting to have trouble getting enough air each time they broke apart for a second to breathe.

 

And then Lance shifted and Keith’s broken arm got pinched between their bodies, and he suddenly jerked back with a pained shout.

 

“Wha – oh shit!” Lance flailed as Keith lost his balance and started falling out of Lance’s lap. He managed to grab Keith just before he toppled over, but there was just too much momentum. They both fell off the bed, landing on the floor with a muffled whump.

 

“Ow,” Keith sighed after a moment. At least he hadn’t landed on his arm.

 

“Wow. That was smooth,” Lance said, sarcasm thick enough that even Keith couldn’t miss it. “You okay? How’s your arm?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine. We just kinda jolted it a bit.”

 

“Sorry about that.”

 

“It’s _fine_ ,” Keith insisted.

 

The two of them just lay there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. Keith was pretty sure his face must have been the colour of his lion, and his heart was pounding in his chest like a drum. He wasn’t sure if that was from the kissing or the fall. The kissing had been pretty amazing, up until then. Stupid broken arm ruining everything.

 

“Stupid arm ruining it,” Keith muttered at the exact same time Lance said, “I’m such an idiot.”

 

They both paused for a moment as they processed what the other had said, and then they suddenly burst out laughing. Just like that, all of the nervous tension left them.

 

“Okay, okay. How about we wait until your arm gets fixed up before we try that again,” Lance suggested, struggling to his feet. As he reached down to help Keith up, he became more nervous, ducking his head shyly. “That is, if you want to.”

 

Keith didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah. Yes. I definitely want to.”

 

“Yeah?” Lance blushed, but his eyes were bright and a huge grin spread across his face. He looked like a little boy who’d just received exactly what he wanted for Christmas. Keith could kind of relate with the feeling. “Cool. Yeah. Let’s… yeah, let’s do that again. Sometime.”

 

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

 

Lance’s eyes darted upward, and he had to bite his lip to control his laughter. “But first,” he said, fighting down giggles and losing. “I’m going to have to brush your hair again. It’s kind of a mess. Whoops.”

 

Keith looked up, even though he couldn’t see what he looked like, and snorted. He figured that Lance was probably right. Lance hadn’t exactly been gentle earlier when he was pulling at Keith’s hair. Not that he’d minded at all.

 

“Alright, then,” Keith said with a smirk, grabbing the hairbrush and handing it over one more time. “Better get to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna scream at me about Klance and Voltron in general, I've got a Voltron blog [i-see-london-i-see-klance](http://i-see-london-i-see-klance.tumblr.com/), and my personal blog is [ikiracake](http://ikiracake.tumblr.com/). Come say hi!


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